


Strangers In The Night

by kingsofeverything



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - Vampire, Because he’s a vampire but he’s not that old, Because it applies to like half my fics, Blood Drinking, Harry In Glasses, Harry Styles makes an ass of himself, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Older Louis, Smut, Soulmates, Suspension Of Disbelief, That needs to be a tag so I can use it, They’re vampires so idk what you expect, Vampire Harry, Vampire Harry Styles, Vampire Louis, Vampire Louis Tomlinson, Vampire Niall Horan, Vampire Sex, Vampires, Virgin Harry, Virginity, Virginity is a Social Construct, it isn’t graphic though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2020-11-26 13:15:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20930822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kingsofeverything/pseuds/kingsofeverything
Summary: Louis never thought he’d meet his soulmate.Harry never thought he’d meet a vampire.





	Strangers In The Night

**Author's Note:**

> As soon as KK mentioned this fest, I claimed “Night Changes” because I had the perfect fic idea for it (dystopian Groundhog Day!), but that one didn’t work out. Neither did the next idea (space!) or the next idea (space again!) or the next one (dreams!). 
> 
> This one worked out though. Finally! Thanks to Nic for everything and for betaing and for saying, “You should do a virginity fic!” as soon as I picked this song. 
> 
> Thanks to KK for being wonderful and for running this fest!
> 
> **If you’d like to translate any of my fics, feel free, but please post the translation on ao3. **
> 
>   
**Please do not post this fic or any of my other fics on any other websites.**  


—— 

Friday the thirteenth and a full moon, and almost every customer he delivered to tonight mentioned it. Harry rolls his eyes, even though no one can see him. He’s never been superstitious, but he did make more tips tonight than usual, so maybe it’s his lucky day. 

After helping check the mozzarella inventory, Harry steps from the refrigerated air of the walk-in cooler to the warmth of the kitchen. His glasses fog up. Every time he goes from the cooler to the kitchen, the same thing happens, but he’s just not comfortable wearing contacts, so he deals with it the best he can, wiping his glasses on a clean and dry napkin. His optometrist would not approve. 

Once he double checks that he’s done everything he’s supposed to, he polishes the stainless steel countertop one last time before heading to the office to wait for Liam to finish. Glancing up at Harry when he enters the room, Liam nods once and goes back to counting.

“All good,” Liam says, standing up to lock the safe. “You ready?”

“Yeah, whenever you are.” Harry follows him out of the office, checking the clock on the wall. Just after one in the morning. Not too bad for a busy Friday night. 

Safety in numbers, especially late at night, so Liam and Harry always walk out to their cars together. Harry’s drive home is short, and he finds a parking space that isn’t too far from his apartment. The walk from there is lined with streetlights, and even the alleyway near his building is lit well enough that he feels comfortable taking that shortcut if the weather’s bad. Tonight, though, it’s clear and the moon is full and bright, so he walks on past the entrance to the alley, not minding the extra few minutes it adds to his trip.

As he passes the alleyway, the streetlight beside him flickers and with a pop, goes dark. Harry stops and frowns up at it, then looks over his shoulder, muttering to himself, “Thought I saw… Must’ve been a cat.” He shakes his head and takes a step forward, but a tug on his shirttail stops him. 

As he attempts to spin around, his scream is cut off by a hand covering his mouth and nose. Every ounce of strength he has goes into fighting the person dragging him backwards towards the alley, but no matter how many times he elbows the guy in the ribs or kicks him in the shin, he doesn’t loosen his hold. 

“Fiesty one,” the man says, laughing in Harry’s ear. “Don’t worry. This’ll only take a minute.”

It takes the man very little effort to turn Harry around and pin him against the dirty brick wall of the alley. His attacker is shorter and slighter than he is, despite being ridiculously strong. Harry wants to fight back, then meets the man’s eyes and relaxes even as his mind tells him he shouldn’t. 

Gorgeous, clear blue eyes and sharp cheekbones are all he sees before the man presses his entire body along Harry’s front, nudging Harry’s jaw until he tips his head up, and the man bites down. It doesn’t even hurt, in fact, Harry barely feels it, though it’s impossible to mistake the sensation of something sharp breaking through his skin. Harry goes slack in his arms, but doesn’t fall as this man — a vampire, clearly — sucks the blood from Harry’s body. 

The vampire pulls back, licking over the wound in his neck, and just before Harry passes out, he hears him say, “Fuck me. This one tastes amazing.” 

And Harry thinks, if he has to die, this isn’t exactly a bad way to go.

——

Harry sits bolt upright, slapping his hand to the side of his neck as the blanket pools at his waist, blinking and looking around the familiar, blurry room. His one-room studio apartment. A dream, then. 

Frowning, Harry runs his fingertips over his skin, which feels cool to the touch, and he shivers. He peeks beneath the sheets to find that he’s still wearing his briefs — the first time he’s slept in anything other than his birthday suit in memory. Harry grabs blindly for his glasses on his dresser beside his bed, but they’re on top of his most recent library book instead of beside his phone where they usually are. After shoving them on his face, he can finally see that his phone is on the far side of the dresser, next to his small TV, along with his wallet and keys. In the corner, draped across the back of his desk chair, is the uniform polo shirt he wore last night. 

Kicking the blankets off, Harry hurries to stand, planting his palm against the wall when he feels woozy. A breeze blows the curtain on his single window aside, letting the late morning sunlight in, and his eyes hurt. An odd tugging sensation in his middle has him starting across the room before he realizes, and suddenly Harry knows it wasn’t a dream. 

Some asshole’s gone and made him a vampire. 

“What the fuck?” Harry asks his empty apartment before going straight to the window, closing it, and lowering the blinds. The light still creeps in around the edges, so Harry rummages through his things until he finds a spare blanket, and proceeds to cover his window with it, tacking it up and duct taping the edges. 

Then he climbs back in bed, fighting the hunger inside him, trying to ignore the pull. He reads his battered copy of _Twilight _until he falls back asleep.

When he wakes again a few hours later, it’s to a rumbling in his stomach and he can’t stop himself from looking for something — anything — to eat that might satisfy his hunger. The sauce on the cold pizza in his fridge is full of garlic, so that’s out. He doesn’t know how vampires feel about cereal and isn’t up to testing it himself. In the back of his freezer is a ribeye steak and he sets the package in the sink, shuddering at the thought of eating it raw, but he knows what happens to the blood when the meat is cooked. He doesn’t want to think about it.

He distracts himself with a long and thorough shower. He isn’t sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing that he still gets hard when he soaps up his cock, but he doesn’t waste too much time worrying about it. 

Since he’s in the mood, he might as well see it through. His fingers feel exactly the same way they did the last time he fucked himself with them, and he’s a little disappointed. Of all of the things that should come along with being turned into a vampire, he hoped he’d automatically become some sort of sex god. Not that he’d know anything about that. 

Harry comes in the same fashion he always does, with one exception: the man he sees behind his eyelids is no longer his Netflix crush of the week or the pretty guy from the porn he watches most frequently. It’s the super hot dickhead who bit him on the neck. 

Standing on the bathrug in his tiny bathroom, he checks his reflection. He doesn’t look much different. Cleaner. He picks up his razor to shave his stubble, then decides against it. There’s no telling what’ll happen if he cuts himself.

By the time he returns to the meat in the sink, he’s hungry enough that he just picks it up with his hands and takes a bite. Cold, raw ribeye steak isn’t as awful as he thought it would be, and that’s the most positive thing Harry can say about it. It’s definitely not as good as medium-rare. But it does the job, filling his belly and satiating the hunger gnawing at his insides. The strange feeling that he’s being drawn towards... 

Harry grabs his phone, opening the compass app, and adjusting it until he sees that he’s being pulled WNW. He opens his WhatsApp conversation with Liam, sending him a quick message to let him know that he’s unable to work but that Zayn mentioned wanting to pick up some extra shifts. 

Now that he’s not hungry, he can focus on the tugging in his middle, and he’s almost positive he knows what it means. He waits until after midnight, then dresses in his work uniform. Grabbing an empty pizza box from his recycle bin, Harry runs downstairs, being careful not to get too close to any humans on the way to his car, lest he find the urge to bite them uncontrollable. There’s no need for an address or GPS, he just follows the feeling in his gut, turning on the streets that lead him WNW until he finds himself circling the block. He parks in the first available space he finds, and sets off with his empty pizza box.

The pull in his stomach leads him to the door of a building he’s delivered to many times, so he holds his breath and nods at the doorman who lets him inside without question. Trying not to look suspicious, Harry whistles to himself. He has no idea which floor, so he heads for the stairwell, stopping on every level to see if he’s still being pulled upwards or if he’s found the right floor. When he finally gets to the ninth floor, his chest is heaving and he wants to sit down for a minute, but he steps out into the corridor, rolls his shoulders back and walks directly to apartment nine-twenty-eight, where he rings the bell and holds the pizza up so it’s easily seen from the peephole. 

When the heavy door opens, it reveals a completely different person than Harry was expecting. The man is handsome, with brown hair and blue eyes, but it’s not the vampire who bit Harry. He’s absolutely sure because the pull is still there, and it’s drawing him to his left.

Harry offers the empty box and says, “Extra cheese. Apartment nine-two-eight.”

“Not ours. Sorry,” the man in the doorway says with a shrug, and starts to close the door. 

The problem with not having much of a plan to start with is that Harry still doesn’t have much of a plan at all. He assumed the vampire who bit him would open the door, they’d have some sort of argument, followed by a vampire on vampire fight in which Harry would come out victorious as a new and temporarily stronger vampire. He’s read all the _Twilight _books. He knows how it goes. Except, now that he thinks about it, he doesn’t feel incredibly strong. At least, not any stronger than yesterday. In fact, he’s still a bit winded from climbing all those stairs. 

As the door swings towards him, Harry huffs in frustration, and shouts, “I know you’re in there!”

“What?” the same man opens the door again, but this time he opens it wide, and Harry can see the vampire who bit him, sitting on the sofa, playing a video game. 

“You!” Harry yells, pointing at the vampire, ignoring how lovely he looks in grey sweatpants and nothing else. 

“You!” the vampire yells back at him, jumping off the couch. “What? How— How’d you get here?”

Harry pushes past the man in the doorway, who moves aside as Harry shoves the empty pizza box at him, saying, “Louis, you have a visitor.”

“Funny, Niall! Hilarious, you are!” Louis — an excellent name for a vampire — shouts, crossing the room in an instant.

“You turned me into a vampire, you asshole!” Harry steps right into Louis’ space.

“I did not!” Louis shrieks, waving his arms around and looking to his roommate. “I swear, I didn’t.”

The door slams behind him, and Harry turns on his heel, freezing when he sees the door is indeed closed. For the first time all night, he’s afraid, which is ridiculous. He’s a newly made vampire, for fuck’s sake. So he spins back around. “You did! You dragged me into the alley by my apartment, bit my neck, drank my blood, and the next thing I know, I’m waking up disoriented and— You took off my clothes!”

“I…” Louis starts, then frowns. “Niall, little help please?”

Niall sighs exasperatedly and drops onto the couch, crossing his arms. “Nah, you fucked up.”

“What?” Louis asks, propping his hands on his hips where his sweatpants seem to be barely hanging on. Though Harry tries to avoid staring, he fails, finding himself moving forward with hands outstretched as if to touch them. Harry stops, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You went out at a full moon after I told you not to, and ooh!” Niall claps his hands and leans forward. “Let me guess, you wandered. Just went where your little dead vampire heart desired?” Louis nods and Niall says, “Soulmates.”

Harry snorts and hears Louis do it at the same time. He turns to scowl at him and finds him scowling back. 

Shaking his head, Louis directs his attention to Niall. “What are you saying?”

“Full moon? Followed your instincts? And you hypnotized him so he wouldn’t remember anything, right?”

“Of course I did, Niall.” Louis scoffs, rolling his eyes, and Harry grins before he can stop himself. 

“Wait. Wait just a minute.” Harry pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, narrowing his eyes at Louis, focusing on his face and not his nipples. “You bit me. You turned me into a vampire. You took off my clothes. And you hypnotized me?”

“No!” Louis yells again. 

“You just said _Of course I did, Niall,”_ Harry says, mimicking Louis’ voice. 

“I bit you, yeah. I hypnotized you. At least, I thought I did! You shouldn’t be able to— Never mind.” Louis blows out a breath, making his hair flutter on his forehead. “It’s like… protocol.”

Slowly, Harry says, “It’s protocol to take off someone’s clothes after you turn them into a vampire?”

“You’re not a vampire!” Louis screams, then opens his mouth wide, and fangs seem to appear from nowhere. “Can you do this?”

With his index finger, Harry pushes at his gums above his upper canines, and nothing happens other than they become a little sore the harder he presses. That seems… like a human thing.

While Harry’s distracted by the thought that he might be a human who stupidly barreled into a vampire’s apartment, Louis says, “We drink from someone, which makes them pass out, and with their blood running through our veins, we have temporary access to their subconscious. It’s easy to find out where they live, and we take them home. Then we wake them up, hypnotize them, the end.”

“Nowhere in there did you explain why you took off my clothes.” Since he’s now realized he isn’t a vampire, this is the hill he’s decided to die on. Metaphorically. 

“I didn’t take your clothes off.” Louis smirks and raises one eyebrow. _“You_ did. And _I stopped you_ from taking off your underwear.”

“What?” Harry whispers, holding his hand to his mouth. But before Louis can explain, it all comes crashing back. 

Waking up on his bed still wearing his uniform, stumbling around his tiny apartment giddy with euphoria, stripping out of his clothes and trying to be sexy about it, asking Louis to—

Harry gasps. “Oh my god. Please tell me we didn’t—”

“No, no, no. Definitely not!” Shaking his head and holding his hands up, Louis steps backwards away from Harry. 

“Rude.” Harry huffs, crossing his arms and hugging his chest. 

“No, I just meant, like, I’d never take advantage. You were pretty, um… loopy.”

With a weary sigh, Harry drops his arms, letting his chin fall to his chest. “Okay. Thanks. I just… Wouldn’t have wanted my first time to be—”

“You drank from a virgin?” Niall asks and Harry actually forgot he was in the room for a moment. 

“Virginity is subjective and like, a social construct, Niall,” Harry says in a practiced way, and he wonders why he’s no longer afraid.

“Mostly,” Niall agrees. “But if you’ve never, um… orgasmed with another person?” he asks, obviously waiting for Harry’s response, and when Harry nods, Niall sucks a breath in through his teeth. “Soulmates.”

Harry shivers uncontrollably and Louis says, “Cut it out, Ni. And quit fucking around. You’re scaring him.” He moves to stand shoulder to shoulder with Harry, resting the palm of his hand on Harry’s lower back, and Harry relaxes into the touch. 

“See!” Niall points at them with both hands and they jump apart. 

“Sorry,” Louis says and heat floods Harry’s chest, climbing up his neck until his entire face is certainly pink. A stranger — a _vampire _— just touched him in a fairly intimate manner and rather than react the way he typically would if a stranger touched his lower back, he let it happen. He _liked _it.

“I…” Harry sucks his lower lip between his teeth and releases it. “I don’t understand. I thought I was a vampire, but apparently I’m not, even though I definitely had some, um… vampire-like symptoms? Like, the sun really hurt my eyes and I… How did I find you? Why is there this…” Rubbing his hand in circles over his stomach and chest, Harry frowns, looking from Louis to Niall. 

“I don’t know.” Louis’ eyes lock onto Harry's for a moment, then he wrenches his gaze away. “Niall’s older. He knows a lot more about… stuff.”

“That’s simplifying things, but yes,” Niall agrees with a quick nod. “I’m three hundred seventy-one years old. Yesterday was my birthday, actually, and—”

“Happy birthday,” Harry says reflexively. 

“Thanks.” Niall smiles and scratches his jaw. “I made Louis — turned him — almost ten years ago. It’s a long story, and his to tell, but to summarize: he asked to be made a vampire, and I… could not say no. Even as a human he was very persuasive.” With a fond expression, Niall looks at Louis and says, “It’s more rare than it once was, but due to our immortality, vampires sometimes find their soulmates. Usually they’re other vampires, but not always. When I was younger — perhaps two hundred, two hundred-fifty years ago — I actively searched for mine, but alas…”

Frowning, Harry says, “You sound… different. More formal.”

“You actively searched for your soulmate? That’s a real thing?” Louis asks sounding bewildered, and Harry shuffles sideways to be closer to Louis which calms the tugging sensation in his middle. 

“I did.” Niall hums and leans back, stretching his arms out along the back of the sofa. “Every full moon. I’d go out and wander. Let my soul guide me.”

Louis says, “Full moon.” 

But at the same time, Harry says, voice a little louder, “Vampires don’t have souls.”

Waving a hand dismissively, Niall says, “Debatable. Maybe humans don’t have souls. Maybe souls are only for the undead.”

“But you said we’re soulmates. So which is it?” Harry tries to keep the petulance out of his voice, but it’s late and he’s tired and hungry— “Gross. I ate raw steak.”

“Did you?” Louis asks, scrunching his nose. “I much prefer medium-rare.”

“Me too!” Harry grins, but almost immediately frowns again. “You can eat food?”

Louis nods and starts to speak, but Niall cuts him off. “Not now, Louis. You have some decisions to make. You can turn Harry. It’s easy enough and I can talk you through it, if need be. If we work together, we _can_ hypnotize Harry. He’ll forget about vampires and go back to his life, but he’ll… He’ll miss you. Whether he’ll recognize it, I don’t know. But there will be an emptiness and he’ll never feel… whole.”

“That’s, um…” Harry pinches the underside of his bicep and it hurts. Emptiness. Making a swirling motion over his stomach and chest with his hand, he tries to ask, “Is that what this…” 

“Yes,” Niall answers firmly. “Or so I’ve been told. But you won’t be drawn to him like a beacon as you were tonight.”

“That’s horrible.” Louis turns to Harry, eyes searching his face. Almost like an afterthought, he asks, “What will happen to me?” 

“Oh. None of that. Harry will never know exactly what is missing, but you will. And you will have to stay away from him.” Niall’s eyes travel back and forth between Louis and Harry. “I’ve always wanted to go back to Ireland.”

“That’s it?” Louis asks, clearly confused. “Seems a bit unfair. Uneven?”

“Well, Harry is human, and we know that means eventually he’ll die. Probably not for quite some time, possibly later today. Who knows? But the instant he dies, so will you,” Niall finishes with a dramatic twist of his wrist that makes both Louis and Harry gasp. 

As soon as all of Niall’s words register, Harry fully expects to be turned into a vampire, and shuts his eyes tight against the inevitability, but rather than a strong hand forcing him to offer up his neck, a gentle caress to the back of his bare arm startles him, and he opens his eyes. Softly, Louis says, “I can’t… It’s your choice to make.”

“It’s… I… You…” Harry rubs his eyes behind his glasses. “My choice?”

Louis nods. “I mean, yeah. It’s your life, isn’t it?”

“It’s yours too! What if something happens to me? I could get in a car accident. Or like, fall down a flight of stairs. I’m clumsy! I fall all the time!” Harry backs away, both hands flat to his chest. “It should be your choice too.” 

Shrugging, Louis says simply, “It is what it is.”

—— 

Now that he’s responsible for two lives, Harry doesn’t trust himself to drive home, so Louis calls for a car to take him, and silently accompanies him down to the lobby, waiting with him on the sidewalk until a black Range Rover with tinted windows pulls up a moment later. 

“Harry?” Louis says his name so quietly that Harry isn’t sure he said anything at all until he clears his throat and says, “I do wish we’d met under different circumstances.”

“Me too,” Harry whispers. “I’ll, um… I’ll let you know soon.”

On the way home, Harry turns Louis’ business card over and over in his hands. He wipes his glasses clean on a lint-free cloth that the driver hands him after he catches Harry in the rear view mirror rubbing them on his shirt. The card is simple, actually a calling card rather than a business card, with only his name and phone number. And though Harry immediately puts Louis’ information in his phone, he holds onto the card long after he memorizes the number. It’s close to three when Harry climbs into bed with Louis’ card still in his hand. He stares at in in the glowing light of his television, which he leaves on even though he isn’t watching anything. 

One hand stays pressed to his stomach, attempting to quell the sensation that he now knows is the pull of his soulmate, and he wonders what it’ll be like to feel that for the rest of his life, never knowing what it is, never filling the emptiness. He falls asleep still thinking about it. 

All night he dreams of being lost and alone — in the city, at sea, in buildings, even in his own apartment — and the feeling stays with him all day. It’s his scheduled day off, so he stays inside, getting high before he even eats breakfast to see if it will calm the tugging in his middle. It doesn’t. He reads and eats and cleans and reorganizes his bookshelf by color, changing it back to alphabetical by author as soon as he finishes. Everything he does is a distraction, even masturbating, but all he can think of is Louis and that only makes it worse. He stays away until he can bear it no longer. 

This time he dresses carefully, ironing his trousers and shirt, buttoning it up to his neck before undoing the top two. He debates wearing his one and only black blazer and finally decides he might as well, after all, he does want to look his best. After doing what he can to polish his black boots, he brushes his teeth again and ruffles his curls and wishes he didn’t have pimples on his forehead, but he supposes there’s only so much he can do, really. Hopefully his car is fine where he left it near Louis’ place, but it does leave him without his own transportation, so he decides to walk. Carefully. 

As soon as he steps out of his apartment, he tries to be extra careful on the stairs, holding onto both railings until he has to pass someone, then he holds onto one railing with both hands. He stays on the inside of the sidewalk, close to the buildings, apologizing to everyone he passes, but once he’s gone a few blocks, he loosens up a bit. 

For a block or so, Harry walks the way he normally does, arms hanging at his sides, stepping out of the way of people and dogs and avoiding cracks and dips in the cement. When he trips over his own two feet, he stops, holding onto a lamppost with one hand, the other clutching his chest. He forgot. For just a moment, he forgot that Louis’ life is tied to his, and he spends the rest of the walk paying attention to everything, stepping gingerly around obstacles, and holding his breath at every intersection. 

This time the doorman doesn’t even look his way, just lets him in without question, and he assumes that Louis must’ve done some sort of vampire hypnotism trick on him. He takes the elevator because he can’t decide which is safer, finally concluding that he’s unlikely to cause his own death inside a moving metal box, but the stairs are a different story. Still, when he reaches apartment nine-twenty-eight, he’s breathless. 

The second he rings the bell, the door opens, and he’s faced with a completely different looking Louis than the shirtless man in sweatpants from the night before. He’s dressed in all black, just like Harry, but despite his tailored trousers and probably ridiculously expensive shirt and jacket, he’s barefoot. 

“Hi,” Louis says when Harry opens his mouth and nothing comes out. He steps back, but Harry doesn’t move until he asks, “Do you want to come in?”

Harry nods, feeling a bit unsteady on his feet, and slowly enters the apartment, looking around for Niall. 

“He’s out,” Louis answers the silent question. 

Harry nods again, searching his mind for the proper way to ask Louis to turn him into a vampire, but failing. 

“Would you like to sit? Have a drink?” Louis offers graciously, and Harry is glad he wore his blazer because he feels underdressed and out of his element. 

“Does that… Is that how it’s done?” Harry bites his lower lip and adjusts his glasses.

“It’s, um… I don’t know what you mean.” The slight crease between Louis’ brow deepens and Harry stares at it.

“You have wrinkles,” he says, and immediately wants to take it back when Louis’ eyes widen.

“I do. Not many, though. I was thirty-two when Niall turned me.” Louis rubs at the crease that Harry was looking at and taps at the corner of his eye. “I prefer to think of them as crinkles. They do go away when I relax my face.”

“I wasn’t… I didn’t mean to insult you. I’m sorry.” 

“I’m not insulted.” Louis smiles and the crinkles by his eyes become more noticeable. “How old are you, Harry?”

“Twenty-five,” Harry says, straightening his posture, lifting his chin, and clasping his hands behind his back as if he’s being inspected.

“Why are you here?” Louis asks, and the question surprises Harry, though it shouldn’t.

“I… I thought you knew.”

Shaking his head, Louis says, “No. I no longer have access to your mind, and I certainly don’t want to assume.”

Harry takes a deep breath, holding it in, and exhaling slowly through his nose. “I want to know… I want to know what you want.”

“I told you that it’s your choice to make. Your decision, not mine.” 

“That’s not fair, though.” Crossing his arms, Harry tries to keep his voice level. “If I don’t know what you want, how can I decide? What if I ask you to turn me and you… Fine.” Harry huffs out a breath. “What would you do if I said I wanted you to hypnotize me? Make me forget?”

Louis blinks, obviously taken aback, and when he speaks it’s as if he’s checking off a list in his mind. “I… I’d call Niall. He’d come home. We’d… Well, he’d have to take the lead because I don’t know how to do it, but we’d do whatever’s necessary. And then, I suppose, I’d move. Niall said he’d like to go back to Ireland, though I’ve never been. And I’d… carry on.”

“And if I said the opposite?” Harry drops his arms, letting them hang at his sides. “If I wanted you to turn me? What would you do?”

The words seem to come a little easier, when Louis says, “I’d bite you. Same as last time. But to turn you, I’d cut myself here.” He drags his index finger down the side of his neck. “And you would have to drink from me. It’s likely you’d pass out again — I did. And that’s it. Your fangs would form while you slept, and you’d wake up a fully fledged vampire.”

“And then?” Harry asks because the method of changing him is the least of his concerns.

“And then what?” Louis frowns. 

“And then what would you want from me? To be rid of me? To keep me locked away so that nothing happens to me and you by extension? As what? Your soulmate in name only?”

“I… I would…” Louis coughs into his fist and looks down at his feet. “I thought, you know, as a vampire I was, um… I don’t…”

When Louis doesn’t say more, only rubs his closed eyes with his thumb and forefinger, Harry makes his decision. Quietly, he says, “If you only want to turn me as a way to save yourself, I choose to forget you.”

Finally Louis raises his gaze to meet Harry’s. “If that’s what you want to do. I’ll do whatever makes you happy.”

“What? What makes you think that’d make me happy? Do you have any idea what this is like?” Harry touches his chest over his heart and runs his hand down his stomach. “This constant pull? It aches, Louis. And I don’t know if I could ever be happy, feeling like this.”

“Maybe, if you don’t know what’s causing it, and it doesn’t actually lead you anywhere, it wouldn’t be as bad,” Louis says, but he doesn’t sound like he believes it. “But I can’t do anything to make it go away.”

Combing his fingers through his hair, Harry steps closer until they’re almost chest to chest, satisfying the pull. “You’re willing to make me forget you if it would make me happy. What would you be willing to do if… if I don’t want that?”

“You mean… Harry, I… I know we don’t know each other well. Or at all, really. And I don’t have the same… My body isn’t pulled toward you the way that yours… I mean, despite that, I’m drawn to you. I was drawn to you that night, and if I let myself wander again, I’m positive I’d wind up at your door.” Louis chuckles quietly, slipping his hands into his pockets and looking side to side — everywhere but directly at Harry. “But if you let me turn you, I’d… Well, I’d do anything to make you happy. I’d fall in love with you. I know it. And I hope you’d, um… that one day you’d love me too.”

Without thinking, Harry surges forward, kissing Louis too hard, busting his own lip and tasting blood. Louis grips Harry’s shoulders tightly, shoving him away. Harry’s heart sinks and he starts, “But I thought—”

“You’re bleeding.” Louis backs further from Harry, wiping a drop of blood from his lower lip, humming as he sucks his thumb into his mouth and closes his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

Frowning, Harry says, “You won’t. And I’m supposed to be bleeding, if you’re turning me.” 

As he opens his eyes, Louis stalks across the room towards Harry, who lets out an embarrassing squeak. Louis freezes inches away and asks, “What is it?”

“I, um… Have you seen _Twilight?” _Harry asks and Louis smiles, eyes crinkling as he nods. “I’m… Well, you heard Niall. I’m a, um… I’ve never orgasmed with another person_._ So, I was wondering if we could, you know…” He bobs his head from side to side, hoping he’s saying what he’s trying to say without actually saying it.

“No,” Louis answers so firmly that Harry jerks back. “No, we’re definitely not having any kind of sex before I turn you. It’d kill you, and then your dying would kill me, and, well…” 

“Oh.” Harry pouts a little, which makes the inside of his lip bleed a little more, and the taste reminds him of what they’re about to do, so he says, “Never mind then. Make me a vampire!”

“Really?” 

“Yes, really. But like, how long does it take? ’Cause like, now that I know it’s going to happen, I want it to happen, like, yesterday.”

“Impatient,” Louis says, and Harry’s cheeks heat. “You have such a pretty blush. I’ll miss it.” He leans in and nuzzles Harry’s warm cheek. “It takes less than a day, but you won’t notice the time passing.”

“And when I wake up, I’m a vampire?”

“Yes, but not like _Twilight_.”

“Not like _Twilight_. Okay, but what about…” Harry attempts to wiggle his eyebrows suggestively.

“Why are you so interested in sex all the sudden? I thought you were a virg— Excuse me, that you’ve never orgasmed with another person?”

Harry flushes hotter, and closes his eyes, not that it makes the words easier to say, but at least he doesn’t have to look at Louis whole he says them. “I haven’t. I mean, I am. A virgin. In the eyes of like, vampire law or whatever.” 

“Vampire law?”

“Or whatever you call it! I don’t know! But I am. Not that it matters. I’ve used like, toys and stuff. It’s just… Ever since you bit me the other night, I’ve been…” Rolling his eyes, Harry mutters, “Horny. Like, more than usual.”

“Oh, well, um… We could…” Louis bites his lower lip and his fangs drop. “Now.”

Harry nods so fast his glasses fall down his nose, and in a split second Louis has him pinned against the wall, cushioning the back of Harry’s head with his hands. He drags the tips of his fangs down Harry’s neck and Harry shudders. 

“Okay?” Louis asks, and Harry wants to melt into a puddle of goo. His vampire boyfriend is so considerate. 

“Yeah. I’m good. Promise.” Harry takes a deep breath and whispers in Louis’ ear, “Do it.”

It’s different this time when Louis’ fangs break the skin. There’s still no pain, but the tugging in his gut turns into a swirling as Louis sucks the blood from his body. Once again he goes lax in Louis’ arms, but this time when it happens, he rests his head on Louis’ shoulder, brushing his lips over the skin of Louis’ neck. Louis slides one hand down between Harry’s back and the wall, gripping his thigh and lifting him off the floor. Instinctively, Harry wraps his legs around Louis’ waist just as Louis pulls back and licks over the puncture wounds, cleaning the traces of blood from Harry's skin. 

He feels dizzy, his head and stomach spinning in opposite directions, but he’s awake and coherent enough to giggle when he sees Louis open an ordinary pocket knife one-handed. Slurring his words, Harry asks, “That’s for me?”

“No, it’s for me,” Louis says matter-of-factly, tipping his head to the side, away from Harry, and slicing the flesh of his neck right where Harry's lips were. Blood doesn’t spurt out the way Harry thought it would. It seeps out as if it doesn’t want to leave Louis’ body, as if it’s trying to make its way back inside him. Harry watches it move in slow motion until Louis’ voice draws his attention. “Drink from me, baby. Before it heals.”

It’s less appetizing than raw ribeye steak, but tastes nothing like the blood from his busted lip or from the papercut he got last week. He drinks from Louis, feeling weak and dizzy from his own blood loss, but he does as he’s told, sucking at the open wound on Louis’ neck until there’s nothing to swallow. He pulls back, seeing unmarked skin there, and promptly passes out. 

——

Harry’s eyes fly open and he sits bolt upright, the blanket pooling at his waist as he looks around the unfamiliar room. “Déjà vu,” he says and catches his lower lip on his fangs, drawing blood, but it heals immediately. 

“Good morning, sunshine,” Louis says from his left, and Harry’s head whips around. He’s sitting in a leather chair in the corner. “You okay?”

“That’s it? I’m a vampire now?” Harry sucks his lower lip into his mouth, biting down and tasting blood again. “Oh… I’ll have to stop doing that.”

“Only when your fangs are out. And yes, that’s it,” Louis says as he stands up. “Can I get you anything? Do anything for you? It’s a bit odd, the first day. I remember.”

“Can I shower? Wait! Can I? I can still shower, right?”

“Yes. You can shower. You can eat and drink human food, but it doesn’t… do anything for you nutritionally.”

“But no sunlight and no… mirrors? Cameras? I…” Harry frowns. “I don’t know why I didn’t ask any of this before. Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. It’s a big change. And I… I didn’t behave properly. I should’ve made sure you knew everything first. I got caught up in the moment and I… I didn’t even ask about your family.” Louis drops his eyes, looking down at his hands.

“I don’t…” Harry stops to gather his thoughts because it’s not something he likes to talk about. “I don’t have a family. I have friends… A few friends. But I…” Tears gather in his eyes and he sniffs, wiping them away.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Louis sits down next to him on the bed. “Or you can tell me later if you want. But it seems like we might have more in common than being soulmates.”

Harry nods. “Later. I… I’m a little overwhelmed right now, to be honest. The longer I’m awake, the more I… hear? I feel like I can hear everything. And like… There’s not even a light on in here, but it’s almost too bright.”

“That’ll fade. Or you’ll adjust. I’m not sure which it is, but after a day or so, your heightened senses won’t bother you.” Louis drags his knuckles down the back of Harry’s arm. “Did you still want to take a shower?” 

Harry nods again and Louis stands, offering his hand, which Harry accepts, biting his lip and drawing blood again. He hisses and licks over the wound which closes instantly, rolling his eyes when Louis laughs. Their hands fit together like they were made for each other and it makes Harry wonder what else about Louis might be perfect for him. He tugs on Harry’s hand and leads him into the ensuite bathroom, which is nicer than any bathroom Harry’s ever been in, with a massive clawfoot tub, and a shower bigger than the bathroom in his place.

“This… This is a ridiculous bathroom.” Harry laughs and squeezes Louis’ hand. “I could fit my entire apartment in here.”

Louis shakes his head fondly and says, “I know. I’ve been there, remember?”

“Oh… Yeah.” Shutting his eyes tight at the memory of how he acted that night, begging Louis to— “You should shower with me.”

“Are you feeling dizzy? You can take a bath.”

“No, I’m fine. Promise. Just, um…” Harry blinks his eyes open, amazed that he can see at all in the complete darkness of the bathroom. “If you don’t want to, you don’t have to, but I thought… I don’t know. I thought it might be nice.”

“No,” Louis says, sighing quietly as if he can sense Harry’s disappointment and insecurities rising. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Harry answers quickly. 

“The next time you shower, I promise to join you. But not this time. Okay?” Louis stares at him, waiting for Harry to agree. When he does, Louis says, “I’ll wait in the bedroom.”

After Louis closes the door, Harry strips out of his clothes, thankful to finally take them off, and steps into the glass enclosed shower. It takes a moment to figure out the knobs and settings, but soon enough he’s standing beneath the warm water, completely confused. It’s much louder than any shower he’s taken, much harsher as the water hits his skin, and even the wetness of it is... a lot. He washes as fast as he can and tries not to focus on the softness of the bathmat and the towel. His hair is still dripping when he decides he’s had enough, hanging the towel up to dry, and pausing by the mirror to marvel at his clear skin. He didn’t realize vampirism would get rid of his acne. 

The next step seems inevitable and he should probably be nervous, but he isn’t, which in itself is a bit disconcerting. It’s not as if he intended to wind up a twenty-five year old virgin, but he never met the right guy. After a few kisses or the occasional grinding in a club, he always walked away, preferring to get off alone in the comfort of his own home. Now… 

Harry takes a deep breath, briefly wondering if that’s a thing he actually needs to do or if he could go without oxygen indefinitely. He decides to think about that tomorrow and opens the door, realizing a second too late that he’s completely naked. 

“Oops!” Harry hops back behind the door, peeking around it. 

“Hi, um…” Louis carefully sets the heavy, crystal candlestick down on top of the dresser and the flame flickers, the single point of light and Harry’s heightened senses making the room shimmer. “Do you want some clothes? There’s a robe in—” 

“No, no. I’m…” Harry looks down at his naked body and, feeling like it’s now or never, steps around the door and into the bedroom. 

Louis’ gaze travels slowly from Harry’s eyes all the way to his feet and back again, lingering on Harry’s lips, and if Harry could blush, he would. He holds a hand out, gesturing at the bed and says, “Fresh sheets, if the shower was a bit much, and you want to lie down.”

“I… Okay.” Focusing on the bed, Harry tries to forget that he’s naked, and that Louis is watching him as he pulls back the fluffy comforter and sheets, climbing underneath them. His head sinks into the pillow and his eyes follow Louis, who walks around to the other side of the bed and stands there with an eyebrow raised until Harry says, “You can lie down too. I mean, if you want.”

Nodding, Louis untucks his shirt, and as his fingers move down the placket, unbuttoning it, there’s a rush of affection like a physical zing through his body. In the warm light of the candle, the pale skin of Louis’ chest seems to glow, and Harry bites his lip again, eyebrows shooting up when he realizes his fangs have withdrawn. He concentrates and they drop down, then all he does is think of them withdrawing again and they do. 

“Figured that out, have you?” Louis grins, unbuckling his belt and letting his trousers fall to the floor. It’s impossible not to stare at him, smooth skin, muscles evident as he moves closer to the bed, but Harry’s eyes catch on Louis’ cock hanging between his legs and he’s briefly disappointed that it’s not rock hard. With a quiet snort, Louis wraps his hand around it, giving himself a few slow strokes as he says, “Don’t worry, baby. Let me lay down. I want to try something.”

Harry watches him climb beneath the sheets and lay down beside him, close but not touching, and he wants to reach out for him, but doesn’t. Instead, Louis smiles and closes his eyes, and Harry closes his eyes as well. Impatient, he starts to ask, “What are— Oh!” 

It isn’t the same as talking because he can’t hear Louis’ voice or words in his head, but he can feel him. In his mind he can sense Louis, and he knows exactly where he is, the precise location of every inch of him. It only takes him a second before his mind wanders to Louis’ dick and he gasps as, inside his head, he can feel Louis touching himself. As soon as that registers, Louis’ hands are on him, only… Harry blinks, opening his eyes and letting his head loll to the side to face Louis, who’s lying there looking back at him, hands folded on his chest.

Louis purses his lips, wrinkling his nose. “Can you feel that?” he asks, and though he can see Louis’ hands aren’t moving, the sensation that his fingertips are tracing the slope of Harry’s shoulder, the outside of his bicep, the ridges of his knuckles…

“How?” Harry asks and the fingers disappear.

With an easy shrug, Louis says, “Thinking about it. Like, just focusing on it. You might need to close your eyes if you want to try it.”

Harry tries to be calm and centered, breathing the way they were told to in that one free yoga class he took a few years ago. With his eyes closed and his breath steady, he imagines reaching out for Louis, hesitating for a second, but then his mind goes straight for Louis’ dick. 

“Oof!” Louis laughs, rolling over so fast that Harry's eyes are barely open when Louis lands on top of him. He combs his fingers through Harry’s damp hair and leans down, nudging Harry's cheek until he lets his head fall to the side. “So impatient. I’m trying to take my time with you.”

There’s nothing for Harry to do but smile. He got what he wanted — Louis is touching him for real this time. The smile stays on his face while Louis presses kisses to the side of his neck, right where he’s bitten him twice now. Harry sighs happily and says, “Thank you.”

Pulling back and kissing him gently on the tip of his nose, Louis asks, “For what?”

“Everything, I guess. For being kind and sweet and… and for wanting me, even though you don’t know me.”

“I… I was always a romantic as a human. But I never had the opportunity… I never thought I’d have the chance as a vampire.”

Sucking his lower lip between his teeth and successfully not biting it, Harry scrunches his nose, then says, “You can romance me. But like, later.” 

“Later?” Louis frowns and Harry bucks his hips, jostling both of their bodies. With a smirk, Louis says, “You really _are_ impatient.”

Nodding, Harry raises his eyebrows. “Have always wanted to find someone I trust enough to fuck me and now I have you, so I’d like to get on with it.” 

Louis’ eyes go wide as he searches Harry’s face. “I didn’t think you’d want that right away. Being, um…”

“A virgin?” Harry rolls his eyes dramatically. “I told you I’ve… I’ve used toys and stuff. I’ve fucked myself with—” 

Fortunately, Louis must decide he’s heard enough, and shuts Harry up by kissing him. He lightly trails his hands down the outside of Harry’s arms and takes his hands, lacing their fingers together. Harry spreads his legs and Louis settles between them, as Harry tightens his grip on Louis’ hands. As much as he wants Louis to fuck him, he loves what Louis is doing — resting all of his weight on Harry so that they’re chest to chest with no space between and kissing him sweetly. He could almost forget that they’re naked in bed except that their dicks are almost perfectly aligned and every time he shifts his body, the head of his cock rubs against Louis’ stomach. 

Harry whines into Louis’ mouth and Louis pulls back, smiling wide and dropping his fangs, nipping at Harry’s lower lip, and gently licking the blood away before the wound closes on its own. Letting go of Harry’s hands, Louis lifts up slightly, shifting his body and slowly crawling backwards, leaving a line of kisses down the side of Harry’s neck, over his collarbone and his chest. He catches Harry’s nipple between his lips, sucking it into his mouth, and Harry winds his fingers through Louis’ hair. 

“Can’t believe you thought I wouldn’t want you,” Louis murmurs against Harry’s stomach, but all Harry can think about is how close Louis is to his dick and whether he plans to suck it or ignore it the way he has been. With his fangs still out, Louis scratches at the skin around Harry’s belly button, but doesn’t bite down. “After I bit you the first time, I thought… I wanted more. But I carried you home, and you took off your clothes and I… I…” 

Whatever he was about to say is drowned out by Harry's loud whine when Louis’ chin bumps into the head of Harry’s cock. His body jerks at the sensation, and without further warning, Louis sucks Harry's dick into his mouth. It’s everything he dreamed and more — tight and wet and perfect — but over far too soon. 

Slowly stroking Harry’s cock with a loose fist, Louis says, “You’re still tired from the change. I can feel it.”

Shaking his head, Harry starts to object, but his words are cut off when Louis hefts his legs up with both hands, moving so quickly that Harry hardly has time to notice he’s not jerking him off anymore before Louis is gripping behind his knees, digging his fingers in and pushing Harry’s legs up and out. He spreads Harry’s thighs and dives down, licking over Harry's rim and startling a squeak out of him, which turns into a moan. 

He’s never really thought about being rimmed before. At least, not in detail. It seemed so far off for someone who’s never orgasmed with another person that he only thought of it occasionally, in passing. Never did Harry think it would be like this. The pure strength of Louis’ body translates to every muscle, including his tongue, and after a few broad swipes and licks, he swirls the tip over Harry’s rim, and slides it inside. 

Not knowing what else to do with his hands, Harry grabs the backs of his thighs and Louis groans, sliding his hands down to spread Harry’s cheeks apart, holding him open and burying his face between them. Thrusting his tongue in and out so fast that Harry shakes, wordless sounds escape his mouth and he’s barely able to think beyond the immediate intense pleasure. He can feel himself loosening under Louis’ touch, and when Louis’ slick finger replaces his tongue, Harry takes it easily, wanting to ask for more but unable to speak at all. Instead he tries again to reach for Louis’ dick with his mind. It does the job. Louis grunts and sits up.

In the barely there light from the single candle, Louis’ blue eyes appear flecked with green and gold, but Harry only has a second to study them before Louis slides two fingers inside and rubs circles over Harry’s prostate. Fleetingly, Harry thinks he must’ve found it with his mind or maybe it’s a soulmate thing, because he’s been masturbating for more than a decade, but never finds it that fast. Heat pools in his belly and he desperately wants to come on Louis’ cock, not his fingers. Whether or not Louis senses it, he pulls his fingers free and Harry blinks open his eyes, watching as Louis strokes himself a few times. 

“Ready, baby?” Louis asks, voice rough, and Harry manages to nod. 

The fat head of Louis’ dick presses against Harry’s rim and Harry sighs, his body relaxes, and welcomes the intrusion. Much slower than Harry wants him to, Louis fills him completely. Gently, he takes Harry’s hands from behind his knees and replaces them with his arms, leaning down to look at him questioningly. Harry nods again, not sure what Louis is asking, but wanting anything he’s willing to give. At once, Louis’ lips meet his, tongue pushing into Harry’s waiting mouth, and he leisurely circles his hips, keeping his movements measured and deliberate. 

Harry rests his hands on Louis’ biceps, skimming up over his shoulders and fitting his hands between them, rubbing Louis’ nipples with his thumbs and pinching them just enough to test the waters. Speeding up his thrusts, Louis nips at Harry’s lip, not hard enough to draw blood until Harry whines and drops his own fangs, biting back and licking Louis’ blood away. 

Finally, Louis seems to let go of whatever was holding him back, dicking into Harry hard, going deep, and fucking him fast and rough, just the way Harry wants him to, moving them up the bed until Harry’s head knocks against the headboard and he reaches his arms above his head to keep from hitting it again. Louis sits up and pulls Harry onto his cock, then lets Harry’s legs fall and leans down to kiss him once more. 

When Harry starts to move, trying to get as much of Louis inside of him as possible, Louis laughs into his mouth, pushes himself back up onto his knees, and grabs Harry’s ankles, holding them up while he pistons his hips. Within seconds, Harry is barrelling towards his orgasm, using the headboard as leverage, trying to give as good as he gets, as Louis hits his prostate repeatedly, so fast that it feels like constant throbbing pressure. He starts to come before he can get a hand around himself, and Louis releases his legs, falling onto him, fangs sinking into Harry’s neck. Harry shouts with the force of his orgasm and Louis drinks from him as he trembles with his own release, licking Harry’s blood from his skin as the wound closes. 

They lay tangled together, Harry’s mind a haze of happiness and exhaustion. He can feel Louis softening inside him and mentally tries to keep him there even as Louis carefully pulls out. 

“Stop it,” Louis says, dropping a kiss on Harry’s nose. “Would you like another shower? A bath?” He presses his lips to Harry’s cheek and rolls to the side, propping himself up on his elbow. 

Harry nods again and Louis smiles, rolling his eyes fondly, and Harry thinks he could spend a lifetime looking at him. “Both it is,” Louis says, standing and holding a hand out to Harry. “I suppose you want to be carried?” He bends down and, slipping one arm under Harry’s knees and the other behind his shoulders, lifts him from the bed. 

Wrapping his arms around Louis’ neck, Harry buries his face there, whispering, “I think I might love you a little already.”

Louis turns his head, meeting Harry’s tired eyes. “If it’s alright, I might love you more than a little.” 

With a smile so wide he knows his dimples are showing, Harry nods again, then closes his eyes and tries to make Louis feel how very alright it is with his mind. But he accidentally thinks of Louis’ dick again, and luckily Louis doesn’t drop him on the bathroom floor. He finds the words before they finish their shower, then Louis carries him to the bath, and back to bed. 

They fall asleep, the first night of the rest of their lives together. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Tweet](https://twitter.com/kingsofthings/status/1196060198101749762?s=20) and  
[Tumblr post](https://kingsofeverything.tumblr.com/post/189124346835/strangers-in-the-night-by-kingsofeverything-louis) to reblog


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